for Sherry
Sitting in her sky-blue, silky pajamas
blanket around her legs,
She crochets.
“Breaking all the rules,”
she says.
“You can make whatever you want
when you crochet.
It’s like writing free verse.”
A series of slipknots form a
poem of fingers.
Forget proper knitting,
following patterns,
sitting in a corner;
a stranger to people’s pain—
doesn’t work for her.
She’s crocheting
twenty-seven scarves
for her fourth-graders
so they can learn a little
about love,
how warm it is when you’re cold.
They need something real,
something tangible
when it’s freezing.
Better watch out
turquoise blue
loop after loop
they’re on their way.
Damn the cold ugliness
in this world that
takes away a child’s bed.
God bless hands
that craft a portable caress,
warming like a Caribbean sun
surrounded by icy indifference.
Tim Bennett lives in Batesville, Arkansas, where he teaches Spanish and English as a Second Language. Bennett has been published in the Haiku Journal and in local, state, and national publications. He has participated in Tales from the South on public radio.
